


Just a touch of your love

by thegirlontheblackhoodie



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alpha Louis Tomlinson, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Ass Play, Ass to Mouth, Beta Liam Payne, Beta Niall Horan, Bottom Harry Styles, Discussion of Past Abuse, Hickeys, Kissing, Louis Tomlinson Calls Harry Styles Pet Names, Lovebites, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Miscommunication, Neck Kissing, Niall Horan & Harry Styles Friendship, Omega Harry Styles, Past Abuse, Past Harry Styles/Original Male Character(s), Past Rape/Non-con, Past Relationship(s), Scenting, Scents & Smells, Self-Lubrication, Top Louis Tomlinson, Touch-Starved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-27
Updated: 2020-06-27
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:47:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24431569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegirlontheblackhoodie/pseuds/thegirlontheblackhoodie
Summary: “What if something happened to you? What would I say to Niall?”“Nothing, he would have to wait to see my corpse on the news like everyone else.” Deadpanned Harry. Louis’ gasp was all the answer he got. Ok, so that might have been a bit too much. With a calmer voice, he said, “It’s really fine. I’ve walked to the tube countless times, I can handle myself. Just go home and tell Niall to stop mothering me.”Louis was finally walking by his side and gave him a sideways glance before talking. “He doesn’t know, does he? Of your, uh, condition.” Harry tensed and his breath became erratic, but he didn’t say a word. Louis continued. “His nose probably hasn’t picked it up, and you’re lucky Liam’s also a beta, but it took me a minute to confirm it. Your scent is gettin’ so…” He seemed to struggle to find a word. He didn’t finish the sentence, but the emotion in his voice made Harry’s tummy churn.--Or, Harry is a touch starved omega trying to get through it on his own. Louis happens to be the only alpha around to realize it and offers to help.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 21
Kudos: 595
Collections: Bottom Harry Fic Fest





	Just a touch of your love

**Author's Note:**

> Well, after five moths it's finally here, the longest piece I've ever written, and I'm even happy with it lol  
> Big thanks to my baby, S, for cheering on me and betaing this, you're the absolute best! Mwah! 
> 
> Thank you to the mods for running the fest :)
> 
> Please check the tags and let me know if I miss something. Hope you enjoy, happy reading! :)
> 
> Tittle is from Little Mix's [Touch](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gBAfejjUQoA)  
> E, xx

Harry was a very tactile person. He liked to cuddle up with his friends while watching a movie, arms and legs thrown over each other, hold hands with his partners as often as possible, always one for casual touch and well known for giving these all-encompassing hugs even if you had met him fifteen minutes ago. He loved feeling someone else’s warmth on his skin, their muscles shifting with movement under his hands and, sometimes, getting to catch the peaceful and happy pheromones of those who were incredibly comfortable in his company.

So, naturally, being two months into college with no roommate, no friends, kind of a heartbreak and tons of homework to do, Harry was having a bit of a hard time. Just a bit, nothing to worry about. At least not yet.

He made a habit of going every other day to the little café near his residence, since surrounding himself with other people helped to control the slight itch of not having actual physical contact, and their caramel macchiato was actually pretty good. Usually, he could get a table for himself and do a bit of schoolwork, like today, or cuddle up in an armchair on the back while reading.

"Hey, want a refill?" The voice startled Harry and he looked up to it. It wasn't Martha, the nice redhead who was usually around when he came, but the boy offered a polite smile and lifted his eyebrows, waiting for his answer.

"Uh, yeah, thanks," Harry gave him a quick smile and looked back down at his reading, still trying to understand some of it. Lately, he was having problems focusing, and not just on schoolwork; a few days ago, he had caught himself passing his turn home on his way from school, twice. By now, his routine had been altered and he could no longer recognize the tiniest things, only aware of something once it was pointed out by people, and then he would be too ashamed of people noticing to give a coherent answer.

The waiter brought back his mug and a ‘courtesy biscuit’, as he had called it when Harry tried to return it. There was something in his face that made Harry feel… exposed, like the boy was looking deep inside of him. And wasn’t sure if he liked what he saw. He shook his head and went back to the paragraph he had been trying to read for the last twenty minutes.  _ Fuck, this is going to be one long-ass afternoon _ , he thought.

Harry gave up on the reading after two hours. His eyes were itchy and his back hurt for he had been bend over while reading. He packed his things with slow movements, body exhausted and limbs heavy even when all he had done for the past three hours was sitting. See, one big disadvantage of being touch starved was the constant exhaustion, and for Harry, those bloody backaches when he laid down, which meant that he wasn’t getting enough sleep either. Now, at the end of the day, lifting his backpack, putting it over his shoulder and make the walk to the counter to return the mug took an unnatural amount of effort and left him panting.

He put down the mug and cringed at the bang it made. Looking up, he met the waiter’s eyes and said, “Sorry, man.” The blonde dismissed it with a wave of his hand. “No worries, you’re not the first client to go ‘round smashing the cups,” he gave Harry an easy smile so he would know he was only teasing. Amused with the boy, Harry smiled back and kept looking at him until the blonde’s eyes turned sympathetic before asking, “Hey, you alright? Lookin’ a bit tired, mate.” Even when he had been half expecting it, the question surprised Harry and made him squirm under the attention.

"Uh… Yeah, 's been a bit of a rough day." He gave the same generic answer he had been giving to whoever happened to ask in the last few weeks, scratching the back of his neck with the hand not holding his backpack. The blonde nodded and hummed before reaching for the mug on the counter and turning around to wash it. "Well, take care, or you'll be scaring everyone around with that ugly face of yours." The sentence was thrown over his shoulder and accompanied by a playful wink that made Harry chuckle. The warmth of the conversation stayed with him all the way home.

×××

So it became part of his routine. For the next few weeks, whenever the blonde waiter -whose name Harry had learned was Niall- was around, they would make a little of chit-chatting and playful banter. It was… nice, having someone to talk to who wouldn't pester him with the 'How are you really doing?'s and the 'Maybe you should talk to a doctor's that his mom and sister kept sneaking in the middle of their talks. Niall was easy to talk to, and seemed to be permanently surrounded by happy and calming pheromones, apparently not too worried to let everyone know (and sniff) his mood, not that Harry was complaining; Niall's scent, lavender with a touch of something citric, was like a soothing balm for his brain.

Today, Harry was seated closer to the counter so he could talk to Niall between customers and still get a bit of schoolwork done. Well, ideally. But his brain wasn't cooperating, so he kept focusing on the way the chair creaked under his bum and the little tingling his rings made when he reached for his cup, or the itch under his skin, which was getting harder to ignore as the days passed; he kept startling every time a new customer went through the door and his nose was particularly sensitive, picking on the faintest of smells whenever someone was on a two-meter radius. So, he was having a hard time reading for his classes, again.

It was discouraging, too. Harry really thought he was making some kind of progress keeping the symptoms in check, people were no longer staring at him with pity, he could take a seat next to someone in the bus without feeling like fainting, he had even walked to school and didn’t go into respiratory arrest. But today it was like his body had forgotten how to function around people, well, more than usual. He’s pulled out of his head when Niall sits down in front of him, the chair’s legs scraping the floor. “Jesus, Niall, warn a man will you?”

Niall gave him a weird look and said, “I literally just sat down.” Harry looked down, sighing when he realized that Niall actually hadn’t been noisy, but his ears, just as his nose, were being extra sensitive today. “Yeah, well… Guess I was a bit distracted,” he said, noncommittally. 

"Have been very distracted lately, haven't you?" said Niall, trying and failing to sound casual, his eyes scanning Harry's face and getting a touch softer. Moments like these were the ones that made Harry feel like a bit of a shit friend; he knew Niall was catching up with his… condition, or at least with the most telling symptoms. And that, being the nice human being he was, Niall worried about him. He probably thought he was being subtle, but his eyes always went a bit softer when he checked on Harry in the middle of the afternoon after seeing him struggle with his readings, and a bit worried when they said goodbye. But Niall was a good friend, so he didn't ask, trusting that Harry would tell him whenever he was comfortable.

"Yeah, just… school is taking a toll on me." Harry shrugged and averted his eyes, reaching for his cup and finding it empty.

Niall gave him one last worried look before looking distractedly around the café. After a few minutes of not-completely comfortable silence, the blonde cleared his throat and said, still not looking at him, "So… I'm meeting with some mates tonight, engage in a quiz thingy our regular pub does." Harry looked at him, confusion in his eyes, and nodded slowly. “We go almost every week, have a bit of a laugh, y’know, unwind from work and catch up with each other,” Niall was gesturing with his hands from side to side, his voice getting higher and his speech faster the more he talked. “They’re really nice lads, nothing out of the ordinary, but great in their own way, like, I seriously don’t know where I would be without them. ‘ve known them for a good while, and they’re some of my favourite people on earth, y’know? Like, I know I talk with basically everyone who listens but I like talking to them the most and…” His voice faded as his eyes met Harry’s, which were framed by raised eyebrows.

They kept staring at each other until Harry moved his head and made an inquisitive sound, prompting Niall to keep talking. But Niall’s mouth was opening and closing, making no sound, so Harry said, “Um, they uh, sound like really nice guys?” The statement came out like a question since he wasn’t really sure where the conversation was going. Niall nodded like an excited puppy but didn’t say a thing, and the silence felt some kind of heavy, so he said, “That’s really nice Niall, hope you have a lovely evening with them,” and gave him a tight smile, resuming his attempt to study.

Niall went back to gaping and, finally, after a minute of staring at the curls on the top of Harry’s head, got out a few words. “I was actually, y’know, with you being all mopey and alone,” Harry gave him an unimpressed look and touched his chest in mock offence, “shut up, you know you are. I haven’t even seen you talk to another person.” The curly one opened his mouth to deny the statement but found that he couldn’t, so he sat back and motioned for Niall to continue. “So, the point is, I was trying to invite you to come to a quiz night, just got a little sidetracked,” he finished, with a little smile.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Um, I…” Harry was at a loss of words but was saved from having to give an actual answer when a customer gets to the counter to give back a mug and ends up wrapped in a bit of a chat with the blue-eyed boy. It’s not that Harry doesn’t want to meet Niall’s friends, per se. It’s just that pubs are usually crowded places, full of smells, sounds and, well, people, and he didn’t know if his body would be able to handle it. He could see that Niall had the best intentions in mind, and he was being such a good friend with the whole not-asking-questions-but-I’m-here-for-you thing, and Harry really, really,  _ really _ didn’t want to put that sad look on his face (like the one he had every time that he had tried to hug Harry or clap him on the back, just to be met with surprised/apologetic eyes and a shake of his head, that first week of tentative friendship).

So he made a quick check of his body; his hands were a little clammy and a lot sweaty; his ears and nose were still being a bit sensitive but he could tell it wasn’t as bad as this morning; a headache had been building in the back of his head for the best part of an hour, but Niall’s presence had helped with that; his back and shoulders were a bit stiff from being seated for too long on the same position. Was he a bit uncomfortable with his body? Yes. Was he wishing to take a shower and sleeping his way through next week? Absolutely. Was he going to push himself to make it to quiz night? Of fucking course.

When Niall made his way to the back of the café and passed by the table, giving Harry a bit of a smile and raising his eyebrows in a question, Harry nodded shortly and gave him a half-hearted thumbs up.

×××

The pub was at walking distance, so they made their way a little after 6 when Niall's shift ended. Harry kept getting to shake his legs to avoid cramping and was having trouble walking straight due to the ache in his ankles, but he smiled and hummed accordingly with whatever story Niall was telling. He just had to make it to the pub, where he would hopefully sit and attempt to relax with the help of a couple of pints.

His hopes were crushed as soon as they crossed the door. Harry’s nose was hit with a wave of scents that made him dizzy, and the ruckus was making his way to what seemed like every nerve on his head. Before he had even said a thing, Niall was waving his way towards the back of the place, pulling Harry by the wrist. When they got to the table Harry had half of a mind to turn around and run back home but when he was pushed into the booth and looked at the other occupants, a small sense of calm seeped in his mind, allowing him to take deep breaths and stop the panic crawling at the back of his neck. He sat there, watching as Niall hugged and smiled at the pair in front of him; one of them had a strange combination of broad shoulders and soft features, like some sort of cute Doberman, the other man -currently holding Niall in a headlock- had  _ cheekbones _ and pretty blue eyes… that caught him staring.

With a blush creeping up his neck he cleared his throat and said, “Hi, I’m Harry,” with a slight tremor in his voice. The boy gave him a nod and a “Louis, nice to meet you”, his voice raspy and higher than Harry expected, “This one is Liam, and apparently has forgotten how to greet another person,” there was humour in his eyes as he gave the other man a prod that made him scowl. “Sorry,” said Liam, “Niall mentioned that you’re kinda weird when it comes to touch, so I wasn’t sure if I should go for a handshake or…”

Niall gave him a hit on the head and Harry felt himself blushing deeper at the thought of Niall telling his friends how much of a weirdo he was. “Yeah, um, I’m not really comfortable with it so… Thanks, I think,” he scratched the back of his neck and gave Liam an awkward smile before getting heavily interested on the little menu placed on the table. The other three looked at him for a bit, then looked at each other and shrugged, discussing over what to get to eat.

When asked, he told Niall what he wanted and watched him go to the bar with Liam to place their order. He could feel Louis’ eyes on him, like a heatwave. The seat shifted when Louis moved to sit closer to him, and Harry got a mouthful of his scent, crisp and woodsy like an autumn storm, with a touch of cocoa, the mix made him think of afternoons spent cuddling under the blankets. He wondered what he would smell like to Louis, with all his sadness and anxiety, and had to shake his head to get rid of the idea, no point on daydreaming. He looked around the pub, trying and failing to distract himself from the boy next to him. Eventually, his eyes fell on Louis’ curious ones, still fixed on him. Harry squirmed on the seat and cleared his throat, uneasy under the scrutiny of those  _ blueblueblue _ eyes.

The sound seemed to spur Louis out of the staring, his eyes shifting to something behind Harry before saying, “I’m sorry. For Liam, I mean. He’s usually better behaved when meeting someone.” He motioned vaguely to the bar and Harry’s attention snapped at his hand, his delicate wrist and the way the light filtered between his fingers. “It’s just that Niall has been talking ‘bout you for days, think it got ‘im nervous or somethin’, y’know?” Continued Louis, calmly sipping his pint and putting it back on the table. His eyes went back to Harry -how was this a real thing? The intensity of that stare was definitely not normal- and raised an eyebrow and, oh right, a conversation.

“It’s, uh, fine. Don’t worry, I know that the whole please-don’t-touch-me thing it’s weird,” said Harry with a shrug of his shoulders and wished he had a drink to stop fidgeting with his fingers.

“No, man, that’s fine. I mean, it’s not the most usual thing, but you have the right to put up whatever barriers feel good for you and your body. So, yeah, it’s fine.” Louis gave him a reassuring smile and whatever answer Harry had thought to give was interrupted when Liam and Niall came back with the food.

With Niall on the table, there was no place for silence. Somehow the blonde managed to eat, keep the talk flowing and laugh at everyone’s jokes. Harry, who had once been quite the social butterfly but couldn’t be bothered to do now, was grateful for him; since Niall was doing basically all the talking, no one’s attention was on him, so he observed. From the way they moved around each other, the casual hand over a shoulder and the faultless way they handed things before they were asked, Harry could see years of friendship, it put a sad smile on his face to think that he had lost something like this and would probably never have it again.

When the food was gone Liam offered to bring the next round of drinks, and the attention was back on Harry when he declined, still halfway through his first. “You alright?” Asked Niall, his gaze worried yet again.

“Yeah, just not really up for getting smashed tonight. And I still have to take the tube back home.” Said Harry with a shrug. Niall frowned and turned to Louis, apparently having a silent conversation, if the heavy wiggling of eyebrows was anything to go by. Then, with what Niall surely taught was a casual tone, he said, “You could crash at mine, it’s just a few blocks away.”

Harry looked down. He knew it was a genuinely kind offer and was actually considering it, just to have more time to get to know Niall’s friends and let himself have a nice evening. But the shake of his hands, the always present spark of anxiety in the back of his mind and the ache on his lower back reminded him that he wasn’t in the best of forms. And being close quarters with someone, even as soft-scented and lovely as Niall was, wouldn’t make it any better. So he shook his head and told Niall he preferred to go home under the premise that he was bad sleeping anywhere that wasn’t his bed -not that he was getting any sleep, but oh well.

Liam came back with pints and shots and they picked up the conversation, Harry making an effort to participate and laugh. After a couple of hours of avid talk and, surprisingly, another two pints, Harry was having a hard time keeping his eyes open and his ears focused on the people at his table. His body was more relaxed than it had been in the last months and even the anxiety was lighter. I didn’t make any sense. After the first weeks of feeling like  _ shite _ , Harry had tried every and anything to soothe his mind and body; scented candles, rubbing oils on his neck and wrists, guided meditation, softer blankets. Nothing had worked. And by some twisted reason of the universe, he was feeling better in the middle of a crowded pub on a Friday evening.

Harry was pulled out of his mind by Niall, who had slammed his hand on the table. “Well, lads, I think its time we let young Harry go to bed before he falls asleep on us.”

Harry flipped him off lazily and said, “Fuck off, Neil,” in a slurred voice. Huh, so maybe he was drunker than he thought. “I’m fine. But, yeah, it’s time for me to go home.” With that, he pulled on his jacket and stood up, swaying a bit before standing straight. Well, that’s the one straight thing about him. The thought made him giggle.

Niall levelled him with an unimpressed look. “Mate, you’re goin’ nowhere in that state. You’re a sniff from passing out.” The blonde made an aborted move to grab his arm and sighed, putting his hand up in a conciliatory gesture when Harry growled at him. “Okay, got it, you’re not comin’ home with me. At least let me call you a cab.”

“Niall, I’m  _ fine _ . Just need some fresh air to sober up a bit.” Without waiting for an answer, Harry strode his way to the door, barely avoiding to crash with the few people mingling around. He leaned against the wall, shivering at the cold.

After a few minutes of standing outside, Harry had come to the conclusion that he had ruined his friendship with Niall and his chance to get to know Liam and Louis, with how rude he had been before storming out like a child. He had forgotten how bad his temper got when he drank, more so now that he was out of practice -with both alcohol and human interaction. Resigning himself to the consequences of his tantrum, Harry began the walk to the tube station on unsteady feet and with his headache back. Not a block in his way, someone called his name and when Harry looked over his shoulder saw Louis trotting towards him.

“Harry, wait!” Louis’ cheeks were rosy as he came to a stop in front of Harry, who had stopped walking. He panted his next words. “Please, let me escort you home. It’s late and it isn’t safe for… you.” The hesitation over the last word was enough to make Harry scowl. He didn’t need some alpha reminding of how much of a weak, helpless omega he was on the eyes of society.

Harry dismissed him with a clipped voice. “Look, Louis, I don’t need your  _ protection, _ ” he spat the word with annoyance, “I’m perfectly capable of gettin’ to my home.” Harry gave him a clipped nod and started walking again. Louis’ voice followed him.

“I didn’t mean it like that!” He was trying to catch up with Harry, but Harry’s legs were obviously longer so he kept talking from a few steps behind. “It’s just… We both know it’s true. It is dangerous for you to be walking alone at this time.”

“Leave it, Louis.”

“What if something happened to you? What would I say to Niall?”

“Nothing, he would have to wait to see my corpse on the news like everyone else.” Deadpanned Harry. Louis’ gasp was all the answer he got. Ok, so that might have been a bit too much. With a calmer voice, he said, “It’s really fine. I’ve walked to the tube countless times, I can handle myself. Just go home and tell Niall to stop mothering me.”

Louis was finally walking by his side and gave him a sideways glance before talking. “He doesn’t know, does he? Of your, uh, condition.” Harry tensed and his breath became erratic, but he didn’t say a word. Louis continued. “His nose probably hasn’t picked it up, and you’re lucky Liam’s also a beta, but it took me a minute to confirm it. Your scent is gettin’ so…” He seemed to struggle to find a word. He didn’t finish the sentence, but the emotion in his voice made Harry’s tummy churn. “Look, I know we just met, but I’m worried, ok? I’m sure you would be just fine if you weren’t like this, but if I figured it out someone else ought to do too. It puts you in danger. Please, I just want to make sure you get home alright.”

Harry scoffed, his panic momentarily forgotten. What was with alphas that they had to go around imposing themselves on everyone else’s life? The worst part was that, as oppressing and arrogant as he sounded to Harry, Louis was right. As a touch starved omega, he would put too much attention on himself just by walking around. He froze. He had never thought of himself as a touch starved omega, not even in his head, the wording making it very, very real. And he couldn’t have Louis telling Niall, the blonde was gonna start pushing and insisting he...

“I… I just didn’t want to worry him.” Was what he said, not looking up to Louis.

“I know.”

“You can’t tell anyone. I’ll let you escort me home, but I need you to promise not to tell anything to anyone.” Harry wished his voice hadn’t quivered.

Louis quiet for a while and Harry pondered the idea to run. Finally, he sighed and said, “Okay. I don’t think is the right way to handle this, but I’ll keep it quiet. But you’re gonna need to tell someone, and soon by the smell of it.” He added, as an afterthought.

“No need, I’ll figure it out.” Snapped Harry.

Louis muttered something and started walking, Harry by his side. They got to the tube without any major inconveniences -except for the couple of times someone looked at Harry for what to Louis seemed ‘too long’ and growled at them. The wait at the platform was more of the same, with an extra chunk of exhaustion for Harry, whose body had decided to finally catch up with the events of the evening. He could feel Louis’ sideway looks, and his scent was getting a cinnamon spice that Harry supposed was irritation, he wouldn’t be too happy if he was forced to get a near-stranger home.

They end up sitting side by side. The buzz from the beer had begun to wear off and Harry was getting anxious, his leg bouncing and his fingers tapping against his thigh. His secret was out. Somebody, an alpha on top of everything, knew what was wrong with him. Yes, he had promised to keep quiet about it, but Harry had met him a few hours ago so he couldn’t exactly trust him to do so. Harry would have to tell Niall before Louis did and Niall took it the wrong way. Fuck, all these months of tiptoeing around and being careful, now ruined by a nose.

“Would you stop that? You’re getting on my nerves.”

Louis didn’t turn around, his face pressed to the window, but Harry noticed that the cinnamon was stronger around him. Harry cringed and stopped his movements, not wanting to upset Louis and get himself in trouble. He didn’t think Louis would beat him or something of the like, but one could never be sure. Images of his legs and abdomen tinted in shades of blue and purple flashed on his head. He suppressed a shiver.

“Sorry,” he apologized, his voice just above a whisper.

He felt Louis moving next to him, his clothes brushing Harry’s. Harry kept his eyes on his knees and tried to stay still. In the corner of his eye, he saw the aborted movement of Louis’ hand, like he had intended to touch his arm.

“Harry.” Louis’ voice was calm. “Harry, I mean it, stop it. People are staring.” Harry gave him a confused look and nodded pointedly at his stilled legs. “Not that, your pheromones.”

Before he could even think of an answer, they got to their station and Louis gave him a somewhat apologetic look before grabbing the sleeve of his jacket and drag him to the dead-end of the platform. They’re not touching, but the proximity of skin, warmth, and alpha has Harry’s body confused; damn his bloody biology and his stupid needy body. Louis moves him until his back is against the wall, then lets go of his jacket and stands in front of him.

“Hey, look at me,” Louis was trying to keep his voice even, calm. Harry looked up, Louis’ face a blurry blob in front of him. “Harry, I need you to calm down. Your scent is getting a bit intense.” The words were muffled by the sound of his heartbeat, pounding in his ears.

It was getting harder to breathe, the air around him heavy with the scents of what seemed like every person in the station, especially Louis’, the cinnamon spice of it sticking to his mouth. Was Louis really that mad at him? Had he asked for too much again? How was he supposed to know that he was stinking the place up? Questions were running through his mind and he could feel a whimper climbing up his throat the more he thought about their answers.

Harry’s next gasp for breath was like a mouthful of hot cocoa, warm, soft, and somehow, lighter than anything. The feeling spread through his body, loosening his muscles and calming his breath enough for him to stop panting and hear Louis’ words.

“That’s it, love. You’re okay.” His voice was nearly a whisper, raspy and slow.

After a few minutes of deep breaths of the cocoa-whatever-it-s thing and Louis’ reassuring voice, Harry was coming to his senses again. At some point, he must have closed his eyes and the lights hurted him when he opened them again, having to blink a few times before being able to focus Louis’ face. The alpha was barely inches away and craning his neck while looking around them. Harry did a quick -and fairly more discreet than Louis’- scan of the platform, sighing with relief when he saw it was basically empty. The sound alerted Louis, who looked at him.

There was a beat of silence, of just looking at each other. Then, Louis asked, “Better?” His smile small and a bit insecure. Harry nodded slowly, still floaty with the last traces of cocoa in his nose. “Okay, then. W-we should get going.” Louis stepped aside and motioned for Harry to lead the way out of the station and to his flat.

They went up the stairs and half a block away when Harry realized the cocoa smell wasn’t fading. He tried to sniff casually around him. There was a snort. “What?”

“Subtlety is not your forte, is it?”

“Maybe I wasn’t trying to be subtle,” replied Harry stubbornly.

“Yeah, sure thing,” agreed Louis. The smirk in his face said otherwise. Harry rolled his eyes, but a faint blush was blooming in his cheeks. Louis let the silence stretch for the next block. After crossing the street he said, “It’s me,” his voice unnaturally neutral.

Harry hummed confusedly.

“The scent you’re trying to catch.”

“Oh.” Unconsciously, he turned his head to the left. Louis was so close Harry could see his pulse -and a light stubble- on his neck. A fresh wave of cocoa hit his nose, a bitterness of sorts in it. “Um… Well, uh, why?”

Louis breathed in as if preparing to deliver bad news. “You were scared. Like,  _ so _ scared people were giving us dirty looks, probably thinking you were scared of, well, of me. I knew you had been uncomfortable since I caught you outside the pub, but it wasn’t so bad, and then we got on the tube and your scent went wild with your fear. And when I tried to talk to you it got worse.” He makes a sad face. “By the time we got to the right station, everyone in the car was looking and sniffing at us, so I just pulled you aside and… Well, I sort of scented you.” He grimaces.

“So…” Harry is having a bit of a hard time processing Louis’ words. “You scented me.” It’s an affirmation, but still, Louis nods. “Like, to, uh, help me relax?” Another nod. Harry knows it’s not that simple, but he nods and says, “Thank you,” stuffing his hands on his pockets. 

“Really? That’s it?”

“I’m sorry, was I supposed to what, bow and kiss your hands to express my gratitude?”

“No. But I was expecting an answer more on the angry side, to be honest.”

“I could give you angry. I mean, you’re still a stranger who scented me without consent, so…” Harry shrugs, his smile adding to the playfulness of his words.

“Shit, if you say it like that you make me sound like a creep. And I  _ am _ sorry for doing it. But I was worried you would drop.” Ok, Louis isn’t going to take the joking way around it.

Harry makes sure his voice is soft and easy. “I know. That’s why I said thank you.”

Louis gives him a tight smile, and they walk the rest of the way in silence. When they get to his building, Harry turns to Louis, unsure of how to end this weird night, having shared one of the most intimate gestures with the alpha. He’s thinking of a casual goodbye, but Louis speaks first.

“Well, this was… fun?” That makes them chuckle. “I’ve never been so stressed in my life, but we should do it again.” Harry laughs again, but he stops when he sees the seriousness in Louis’ face.

“I-I don’t think I’ll be up for anxiety attacks in a while, sorry.”

Louis plain scowls at his words. “You have to stop joking about this. I’m sure I don’t have to remind you of how dangerous your condition is. You need someone to help you take care of it, Harry.”

Harry scoffs. “Wow, I had really never thought about it, thanks, really. Obviously all I need is a mighty alpha to take care of me and make decisions over my body”

“If you stopped being an arse for a second, you would stop twisting my words and let me help you.”

“No, you stop being a sexist bastard trying to tell me what I should do and expecting me to do it just because of my secondary gender.”

“What the hell are you talking about? I’m just trying to help you not to die.”

“Your intentions are widely appreciated, but I’ve done just fine by myself ‘till now.”

Louis’ retort doesn’t come. Instead, he gives Harry a once-over that makes him squirm. Harry decides he’s had enough of this and goes up the stairs, just for his legs to give up on him when he gets to the door. He falls sideways, catching himself with his arms to avoid hitting his head. He keeps his eyes closed, feeling shame and listening to the approaching steps.

To his credit, Louis doesn’t start with ‘I told you so’, but he does crunch next to him and says, “See? You’re getting weaker. I’m really not trying to give you the superiority talk, just tryin’ to help.” He hesitates for a breath, rushing his next words. “Stop denying the comfort you’re gettin’ from me and lemme help.”

It’s not that Harry hadn’t realized, more like he had been in denial. His omega was obviously comfortable with Louis, his scent having helped to calm Harry and the way his body seemed looser when walking next to him; however, Harry couldn’t -wouldn’t- get in anything close to a relationship now. He  _ had _ been doing good on his own, but now that his body had been reminded of how it felt to have someone, an alpha, close, Harry wasn’t so sure that he could go back to dealing with it alone.

With that in mind, and gathering the last traces if his dignity, he lifted his head and grunted his way to a standing position before talking. “Ugh, fine. We better go upstairs if we’re gonna discuss this, the neighbours can be pretty nosey.”

If Louis was surprised by the invitation, he didn’t show it. Harry kept his eyes on the floor and rushed them up the stairs to his flat. He tried to ignore the self-consciousness that flared up in his chest at the sight of the alpha, standing in his living room and eyeing everything with curious eyes. He muttered something and went to put the kettle, trying to organize and understand how the conversation was supposed to go. The harsh realization that Louis hadn’t actually said how he would help made his stomach turn uncomfortably.

Harry went back to the living room with two mugs full of steaming tea and handed one to Louis wordlessly. They sat on opposite ends of the couch, drinking too-hot tea and all the unspoken words weighing down the atmosphere. It was Louis who finally broke the silence.

“I want to help you, I really do, but it’s the first time I’ve been with someone touch starved so I’m not really sure of where to begin.” The way he talked about it, the words easy and light in his tongue, made something warm set on the pit of Harry’s tummy. “From what I’ve heard, best would be if we started to get you, um, comfortable with other people around you.”

“I’m surrounded by people all the time. People don’t make me uncomfortable.”

“Yeah, but classes and walking down the street doesn’t really count for touch and proximity. You need to be close to people, like, create an emotional bond and get used to other pheromones and scents. It’s like giving your brain the evidence of your interactions with people.”

“So you suggest I go around sniffing strangers?” 

“No, I’m suggesting you get a close friend. You need to have a strong emotional bond so the actual touch won’t make you drop.” Harry was mocking him, but Louis kept talking with the same seriousness as before.

“Huh. A friend. I have Niall, but I guess we’d need to get closer before the actual touching.”

“Not Niall.” Louis’ words were harsher than he meant. He flushed and took a deep breath to continue. “Betas won’t provide your omega with the closeness it’s craving. At least not as fast as an alpha or an omega, even.”

Harry made a face. He hadn’t bothered to make friends at the beginning of the term, talking only to professors and making excuses to get out of group assignments. Basically, Niall was the only person he had talked to -well, he had talked to Liam and Louis, but they weren’t friends. He told this to Louis, who frowned and gave him a look that said  _ How could you let this get this bad? _

“It seems like I’m the best you’re goin’ to get.”

“Oh- I- Well… yeah.”

“I know this hasn’t been the smoothest of interactions, but I think we could be really good friends if we give it a chance. So, what do you think if we befriend the shit out of each other and save your sorry ass in the way?” Louis delivered the question in a teasing manner, but Harry saw sadness in his eyes.

He still nodded.

×××

As it was, Louis was right. With the knowledge that their friendship was meant to be just that, that nothing else would be expected of him, befriending Louis was a piece of cake. The next couple of weeks were a whirlwind of lunches…

_ “I can’t believe you chose that, but now that I think about it, it’s not even that surprising.” Louis teased him from his side of the booth, making a face everytime Harry took a bite of his avocado chicken sandwich. _

_ “There’s nothing wrong with wanting to get a bit of healthy greens at lunch.” Harry knew his pout was a bit too much, but he had a point to make. _

_ “But why would you choose the most objectified, overused, instagramable green food on earth?” _

_ “I, for one, am glad avocado is getting the recognition it deserves.” Said Harry taking an exaggerated bite and humming loudly. Louis shook his head and gave him a fond roll of eyes. “Also, I’m not sure you can objectify something that’s an actual object.” _

_ “Not the point, H.” Harry shrugged and kept eating. He didn’t miss the smile Louis was trying to hide behind his milkshake. _

… strolls at the park…

_ Harry’s hands were warm from holding his -second- cup of tea, his legs starting to hurt after half an hour of walking. But he couldn’t bring himself to tell Louis, who had been guiding him through the small, less concurred trails, that they should take a break. They had been walking in relative silence, the crunching of leaves under their feet and the wind the only sounds around them. _

_ With how cheerful and full of energy Louis seemed to be, Harry was surprised when he suggested a quiet walkout, almost like he had picked up on Harry’s bad mood that day. Yet again, Louis was proving to be full of nice surprises; like the way his voice had gone soft talking to his sister on the phone; the juxtaposition of his hard features and the graceful way he seemed to carry himself; the glint of his eyes when he was focused on something; the way he went full-on big brother mode on Niall while doing the shopping list for their shared flat. _

_ And now, watching him next to him, wind making his cheeks flush and sunshine dripping on his skin, made Louis look so soft and carefree. Louis’ whole demeanour radiated calm and made Harry feel lucky just to get to see this other side of the loud boy. _

… and ice cream.

_ "Every time I think you can't make worse choices on food, you go and prove me wrong." _

_ Harry stopped mid lick, his tongue out, and made a sound of protest. "What did I do now?" _

_ Louis leveled him with a look. "Well, besides picking the most basic and plain ice cream flavour on earth, nothing at all." _

_ "It's not basic, it's a classic. Few things are as traditional as vanilla." Replied Harry with an eye-roll. _

_ "That's what hipsters say." _

_ "Well, hipsters are right." They stated at each other for a beat, long enough for Louis to take a bite of his banana split. _

_ Louis pointed at him with his spoon. "They're not, but I suppose not everybody can have good taste." _

_ Harry tried to be offended, but he guessed that the stain of raspberry ice cream on the sleeve of Louis shirt was payback enough. "What's  _ your _ favourite ice cream flavour then, mister really good taste?" _

_ "Mint chocolate chip, of course." _

_ "Of course," Harry mocked him. _

_ "Oi, a little respect for the elderly, young man." _

_ Harry giggled and finished his cone. When Louis finished his own ice cream, they stood up and made their way out. "C'mon, grandpa, let me walk you respectfully to the tube." _

It was easy to be around Louis, with his (mostly) easygoing attitude and his alpha pheromones, which he seemed to be letting free all the time he was with Harry. And yet, Harry’s brain wouldn’t shut up, reminding him of the worst things in the most unexpected moments; there was a total disconnection between his omega and his brain. His omega couldn’t be happier when Louis was around, making Harry all smiles and jokes, but he kept having to catch himself when he would start daydreaming of having a proper relationship with Louis. And then his brain would come up with the memories of screams and bored faces telling him to “stop being such a needy omega”.

Between his omega needing the comfort of people -an alpha- and Louis’ whole being, Harry was having a hard time remembering why he needed to put a distance, physical and emotional, before it was too late.

×××

“Maybe we should call the whole thing off, I’m not sure I’ll ever get over this.” Louis was holding his serious/offended charade really good, which meant that Harry was in stitches on the floor. “It’s not funny, how am I supposed to recover from this wound?” Harry’s laughter was dying down, but a new giggle came out at Louis’ dramatics.

“I’m sure you’ll find it in your heart to forgive me,” said Harry in a breath.

“Not liking superhero movies isn’t the kind of thing that can be put aside easily,” Louis was eyeing him, still judgemental. Then, an impish smile grew on his face. “I certainly could take a bit more convincing.”

Harry sat down on the carpet, his back to the coffee table, and looked suspiciously at Louis. “I feel the need to remind you that sexual favours are out of the menu right now.” The spluttering that came out of Louis’ mouth and the heavy blush that bloomed on his face made Harry’s own embarrassment worth it.

“Yeah, not exactly the kind of favour I was thinking about, I’m scandalized you would think that of a nobleman like myself.”

“Noble, hah!” Harry mocked him. Louis gasped in false offense and stuck his tongue.

“I  _ am _ noble. And to prove it, I’ll let you pick the movie for tonight.” Louis made a wide gesture with his arm and vowed his head, like some kind of royal figure. “Just nothing too corny, please, I’ve seen enough rom-com’s for a lifetime,” added hastily when Harry was putting up Netflix.

“Fine, but next time we are totally watching ‘The Notebook’, no buts,” Harry made his best attempt at a serious face, but he could feel the corner of his mouth going up so he supposed the effect was cut short.

Louis pouted. “Aw, no butts? But I’m packing such a fine one.” A smirk took over his face when Harry gaped at him.

“So much for a noble man, huh?”

“I’ll have you know that my intentions are still pure.”

“If you say so…” Harry’s reply was met with a cushion on his face and a cackle. “I’m so not sharing the popcorn.”

Louis stuck out his tongue. They shuffled a bit on the couch before Harry started the movie. He had settled for  _ Tallulah _ , deeming it a safe choice given his exhaustion and Louis reluctance to watch a rom-com.

They finished the bowl of popcorn within the first twenty minutes of the movie, so they paused it and went to make another one. Harry was rummaging his cabinets trying to find the M&M’s he knew were in there when Louis voice, slow and careful, reached his ears.

“So, you’ve been doin’ better, yeah?” Harry looked at him over his shoulder, but Louis was deeply interested in his socks.

“Yeah,” before Harry could even consider how much Louis wanted to know, an acid-ish scent was on his nose and he started rambling. “I haven’t been as exhausted as before, and the headaches are getting farther apart so I’m getting a lot of readings done. My back still hurts like a bitch, but my legs can handle the walk to school. I’m even getting better at picking moods by scent, which I actually discovered in the middle of a class when one of my classmates was going into rut.” His cheeks warmed up at the memory of the heat that had gathered in his tummy when he had got a whiff of the strawberry scent, and he thanked the fact that his head was still inside the cabinet.

Louis said nothing, but his scent was getting stronger. Harry turned around, finally having found the chocolates, and saw him standing near the sink, hip popped and eyes still on the floor. The silence was awkward and Harry wanted to kick himself. He was distracted thinking of a way to break the tension that the beep of the microwave made him jump.

Wordlessly, Louis got the popcorn into the bowl, handing it over to Harry with a tight smile. Harry poured the chocolate with trembling hands, half expecting Louis to notice and somehow scared of his reaction; Peter had hated when he got clumsy around the kitchen. He shook his head, trying to get rid of the idea. Louis was not like Peter, Harry knew it.

They’re back in the living room when Louis finally spoke, but his words brought a new wave of tension to Harry’s shoulders.

“Do you think you’re ready for actual touch?” Not really waiting for an answer, Louis continued. “I mean, your body is reacting nicely to me and you’re not nearly as tense. You can even be in close proximity with me without spiralling into panic, so…” He finished with half a shrug, his eyes careful over Harry.

Harry sat down, feeling weak at the knees. “Well, I-I really don’t know. I’m just getting comfortable with you, but it’s still hard with pretty much everyone else.”

“Yeah, but I’m not telling you to go around groping strangers,” Louis sounded impatient, his voice clipped. “It’s me we’re talking about.”

“Still, I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“C’mon, Harry, don’t you think I deserve a little something after putting up with you for so long?” With the way he wiggled his eyebrows, Louis was probably trying to make a joke, but the wording was all too familiar to Harry and sent him straight to an ugly picture.

_ “It’s what I deserve after putting up with you, bloody piece of work you are.” _

_ Harry had shrunken in a corner, trying to make himself small, to become part of the wall. But he knew he wasn’t that lucky, so he just braced himself for the impact, and barely whimpered when Peter clutched his arm and dragged him to the middle of the room. The carpet was rough on his hands when we fell, leaving a burn he was already familiar with. _

_ He knew what was coming. The bite of the crop in his tummy still made him flinch. _

“I think you should go.” Harry tried to make his voice firm, but it still quivered.

“What? Why?” Louis was obviously confused, but Harry wasn’t going to explain a thing.

“Just go, Louis!”

“But why?!”

“Because. Just leave.”

“Because? Why, Harry?” Louis’ voice was getting dangerously close to a growl and sounded a bit offended.

And that just tipped Harry off. How dare he feel offended when he was the one talking about Harry like he was a nuisance? When Harry was the one that had been beaten for asking for caresses?

“Because I don’t need you talking me down, talking about my body as if it’s yours to use! You think this is a joke? That I’m just a charity case? I’m not, and I don’t need you pulling the nice alpha act on me while trying to get on my pants!”

“What are you talking about? I’m just trying to help, you literally need to be touched!” Louis was screaming too, but Harry was done with screams and fights.

“I know, but I would like to have a word in who does that touching. Just for once, I would like to get to choose when and where I’m being touched.” Harry’s voice was flat, no emotion on it, like a machine. Louis gasped and a slight cinnamon smell started flowing around the room. Harry knew that the message was clear, his body had been taken from him. He knew that this would, most likely, just scare Louis away. So he breathed in and kept talking. “I know you say you want to help, but whatever you do won’t work. It might be easy and fun at the beginning, but my body, my omega, will get greedy. And you’ll get tired of me. Besides, nobody wants a battered product.”

After a beat, Louis stepped forward, gaping like a fish. “Harry.”

“Don’t, Louis. Just…” Harry sighed. “Just leave, please.”

Louis stood there, barefoot in the middle of Harry’s living room, giving Harry a look that said too much. When Harry stood and took the bowl of popcorn back to the kitchen, his eyes followed him.

Harry stayed in the kitchen until he heard the door close.

×××

_ A week later _

Harry was in the middle of his third refill and a whole chapter down his reading when the door opened with a bang and furious pheromones permeated the small room, making him flinch and put his arms around himself, trying to make himself smaller. His eyes were glued to the stain his mug had made in his papers, his vision going a bit blurry on the edges and he didn’t dared to look up, even when his senses had been put on alert. He could hear a couple of voices arguing somewhere to his left and they were getting closer, judging by the volume of the screams and the heavy wave of pheromones that was getting to Harry.

Absently, the thought that having an argument in public wasn’t the most considerate thing to do crossed his mind. It seemed like the argument had been going for hours, Harry’s limbs going numb from the tension in his body, the knuckles in his hands white with how strongly he was grabbing and scratching his arms, a layer of cold sweat settling on his back and his temples. He couldn’t even understand what the voices were saying, his mind foggy and panicked, just the volume and all that  _ anger _ registering in the back of his brain.

Suddenly, there was a third voice, “Harry!”, the force of it’s words triggering a new wave of panic inside him and making him jump out of his seat, batting his arms to get away from whoever was trying to reach him. “Hey, love, it’s okay,” the voice sounded strained and vaguely familiar, but his vision hadn’t fully cleared and he couldn’t see the face of whoever was talking. “It’s okay, it’s okay, you’re safe” the voice wasn’t getting closer (and neither were the screams, Harry realized), but the words sounded clearer now, repeating themselves and bouncing inside his skull, losing their meaning but managing to seep some vague sense of calm in him at the familiarity of it. Harry focused again on the voice, that was making a question now. “Can I get closer? Would that be okay?”  _ No _ , he wanted to say,  _ I’m not safe, please don’t come closer, leave me alone _ . All he got out was a couple of strained whimpers and sobs, his brain fuzzy and his tongue heavy in his mouth.

Then, the furious pheromones were right next to him and his lungs were collapsing. Harry couldn’t see them, but he was sure that they were there, he could feel them; in his skin, suddenly too tight for his body; in his stomach, knotted and heavy; in his brain, struggling to form any coherent thoughts amidst the panic and in the constant stream of  _ dangerdangerdanger _ flowing through his veins. 

Harry could feel the last shred of consciousness leaving him when a high-pitched whimper teared through his throat. From then on, everything got to Harry in flashes; a blur of green, a whiff of cinnamon, a growl that shook him to the core, salt on his lips, something warm under his cheek. Then, pitch black.

×××

Waking up was an easy, almost delightful experience. The pillow was soft, the covers warm and fresh smelling, the room in a quiet, fragile status that invited Harry to keep his eyes closed and enjoy the bed. And he would have done it, if it hadn’t been for the itch under his skin and the sudden shivers. Those definitely made him sit up and open his eyes.

He didn’t recognize the room, adding to his unease. It was clearly lived in, the desk on the opposite wall full of stray papers, books and cups, clothes all over the floor and the walls full of band posters and photos. Harry got out of bed and walked to the desk, trying to find something that clued him on who’s room he was in, when the door opened and a strong woodsy scent hit him.

Harry knew who it was even before turning, his nose being attuned to all the changes and variations of this particular scent. When he did turn around, Harry was met with an apprehensive Louis standing in the doorstep. Just the sight of him, and even in his current state -scruff on his cheeks, bags under his eyes, stained t-shirt-, made Harry feel feverish, shivers going down his spine.

Louis’ nostrils flared and he gripped tightly the knob. “Harry… How are you feeling, love?” The pet name sat heavy and warm on Harry’s skin.

“Fine. Warm. Wanna cuddle.” Harry’s saliva was getting dense in his mouth, his brain slow. He took a step towards Louis, the pine, smokey scent radiating from him alluring Harry to get closer.

Louis breathed heavily through his mouth, putting up a hand to stop him. “Wait, Harry.”

“But I wanna touch you. Your skin looks so soft,” Harry was grumbling, a pout on his lips. He could feel heat collecting in his tummy and the itch under his skin growing. Everything in him was asking to be closer to Louis, to touch and smell and taste.

“No, Harry. You’re going into heat, you don’t want this.” Louis flinched like it pained him to say those words.

“I do, I want it so bad,” Harry took another step, his voice full of desperation and want.

“I’m sorry, Harry. I can’t- won’t do this. I know you’re gonna regret it.” With that, he got out of the room and closed the door behind him.

Harry moaned sadly. He knew Louis was just on the other side of the door, still close enough for his scent to carry to Harry. “Louis, please, I want…” He doubled over when a flash of pain shoot through his body, falling back on the bed, the sheets blissfully cold on his feverish skin.

He heard Louis grunting. “I can’t, baby, I’m sorry.”

The pain was consuming him, like fire biting on his skin. Louis was talking to him, but Harry couldn’t understand. He trashed around in the bed, vaguely aware of the wet spot under his bum. At some point he had taken off his pants, his fingers getting closer and closer to his hole. A couple of harsh fingers up his ass and a wild hand around his cock took him to the first orgasm of his heat. It was sadly unsatisfactory.

Harry rolled over, his moves lethargic and tired, buried his face in the pillow and fell into a fitful sleep, his head clouded with cocoa and pine.

×××

This time, waking up was shit. The pillow and the sheets were tacky with sweat -among other bodily fluids-, the covers too warm and tight around his body, his muscles sore and strained. Given that his body felt like a stampede had gone over him, Harry counted getting out of bed and into a pair of pants as a success.

Harry gulped down the cup of water he found on the nightstand, doing a silent check-up of his body and mind. He knew he was gross, a mix of dried come and slick covering most of his bum and thighs, so a shower was due; but as his mind was clearer and the feverish feeling was gone, Harry could tell his heat was over. At least most of it, since the pine and smoke scent that was left on the room still got him half-hard again.

He walked slowly to the door and frowned when it didn’t open. Harry gave the knob a shake and grunted with the effort. The sound of steps and the lock of the door startled him, his gut reaction to go back to bed and as far as he could from the door. The door opened slowly, Louis barely peeking in.

“Oh, you’re up,” Louis sounded surprised. He entered the room with hesitant steps, his eyes cautious.

Harry hummed and looked down, suddenly remembering that he was in Louis’ room and that it was Louis’ scent that had him half-hard under the covers. “I, um, was trying to get to the bathroom.”

Louis scratched the back of his neck, uncomfortable. “Sorry, had to lock the door from outside... you were trying to get out.”

Shit. Harry had made a fool of himself, throwing himself at Louis like a clingy, needy mess. Also, he couldn’t remember how or why he’d ended up in Louis’ flat. “So… I, uh, well…” Harry had so many questions he didn’t knew how to make them all. Why was he there? Did Louis hated him? Oh, god, had he slept with Louis?

“Why don’t you take a shower while I tidy up a bit in here, and we can talk over breakfast?” Louis was acting all collected, despite looking as tired as Harry felt. He got out after Harry nodded, giving him the privacy to get to the bathroom.

Once in the shower, Harry tried not to think too much about the fact that Louis was probably picking up the sheets Harry had spent his whole heat on, focusing instead on scrubbing himself thoroughly. He got out when the water started running cold, towelling his hair dry and draping himself in a soft, fluffy, lilac bathrobe he found behind the door. Back in the room, the bed was made and most of the clothes had been picked up; a hoodie and a pair of sweatpants were folded on top of the bed. They were soft and well worn, and smelled like Louis. Harry smiled while putting them on.

There was a clank and a not-so-whispered “Fuck!” coming from the kitchen. Harry took a deep breath that did nothing to soothe his nerves and walked out. He was met with Louis in front of the stove, removing what smelled like eggs, and a thumb in his mouth.

“All right there, Lou?” The nickname had slipped out of his mouth like it belonged.

Louis looked at him over his shoulder and gave a slight nod. “Just a bit of a burn,” the words were mumbled, his finger still in his mouth. He stirred the eggs one last time and motioned for Harry to take a seat at the table, where a cup and a plate of toast were already waiting.

Louis plated the eggs and sat in front of him, picking small bites of food in between looks at Harry. He took a sip of his juice and said, “I assume you have questions so go on.”

Harry chewed slowly, trying to organize his ideas. “How- Why am I here?”

“What’s the last thing you remember?” 

“Um, I was at the café, doing one of my readings. And there was some kind of fight? Everything besides the bitter angry pheromones is blurry.”

“Yeah, a couple of arseholes started a fight in the middle of the café, some shit about bikes and money.” There was a frown on his face. Harry’s hands itched with the urge to smooth it. “Anyway, I was looking for you ‘cause I, well, I was worried. And when I got there you were so, so scared, wouldn’t listen to me and your scent was so strong, like it was pulling at me. Then one of the guys was like, pushed in our direction and you…” Louis squirms in his seat, traces of cinnamon spreading around them. “You called me. Your omega called me.”

The omega call wasn’t exactly a rare occurrence, many omegas wanting their mates in stressful situations. But it was extremely uncommon for it to work, for it to even happen, on un-bonded couples. Harry didn’t know what to do with that information. At his silence, Louis continued. “I got closer and, I’m sorry, Harry, didn’t have a choice, I had to pick you up. That’s when you dropped, and Niall insisted that I brought you here, something about my alpha pheromones helping you to come back up, so I did. You were out for about an hour before you woke up and…”

“And went into heat.” Said Harry. “But, why? I mean, I’m on suppressants and I wasn’t supposed to have a heat in a few months.” The frown on his face made his confusion clear.

“From what I gathered, it’s possible that the touch starving messed with your cycle, even while on suppressants. That, combined with the drop and you waking up in a room that reeked of alpha…” Louis shrugged, his eyes apologetic.

So, Louis’ scent had triggered his heat, another piece of information he didn’t knew what to do with. He would analyze it later. “How long was I out? In my heat, I mean.”

“Three days.”

That was way shorter than his usual hits, the only way to shorten it was… Oh, okay, so he had slept with Louis. Shit. “Oh, well… Thanks, I guess.” He kept his eyes glued to the table, embarrassed.

“Harry, look at me.” Louis’ voice was cautious but firm, close to a command. Would Louis expect him to submit or something after spending his heat together? “Harry, nothing happened. We didn’t slept together.”

Harry’s neck hurt with how fast he was to look up. “Then why..? I thought I had-” He had a blurry memory of asking Louis to give him… something.

“Yes, you did ask me to help with your heat. But I refused. I didn’t wanted you to hate me more for letting you do something you would regret.”

“I don’t hate you.”

Louis kept talking as if Harry hadn’t spoken. “I did, however, gave you clothes. Heavily scented ones, so it might have been that. Along with water and fruit, since I didn’t want you gettin’ sick or somewhat.”

Harry was speechless. He couldn’t imagine the amount of effort it must have taken for Louis to control himself with an omega in heat in his flat. The fact that he had maintained the physical barriers in such a situation, knowing how -and why- Harry felt about touch, made Harry’s heart clench.

They finished breakfast in silence, not looking at each other, the food lukewarm. Louis was nursing his own cuppa, Harry looking at him across the table. “I’m sorry. For how things went that day in my flat.”

“Harry, you don’t-”

“No, I do. I know you didn’t meant to offend or trigger me, and I just lashed out. I should have explained.”

Louis put his cup down and shooted a small smile at him. “You could explain now. If you wanted.”

_ In for a penny, in for a pound _ , thought Harry. “When I was with my ex, Peter, my anxiety was starting. I got nervous at everything and physical comfort was always the best to help me calm down. For the first couple of weeks Peter thought it was cute that I wanted to be so close to him; then decided I was being a pain in the arse. It got bad, a vicious circle I didn’t knew how to end. I would get an anxiety attack and seek out for him, he would give a half-hearted hug or straight up ignore me, which would make the anxiety get worse; and then he got aggressive, saying I was being needy and spoiled, usually landing a kick or two on the way.” Harry saw Louis flinch at the casual tone of his voice. “Worst case scenario, he would say he deserved something for putting up with me and my shit, hit me ‘til I passed out and…” He couldn't bring himself to say it.

Louis was frozen in his seat, his eyes shimmering with tears. After a while, he got up and wrapped Harry in a hug. “I’m so sorry, baby. I-I didn’t know, else I wouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry you had to get through that.”

Harry let the warmth of Louis’ body comfort him, inhaling the now-familiar cocoa scent. “I smelled you, y’know?” Louis made a confused hum. “Back at the café, in the middle of the anxiety attack. I could smell how worried you were.”

“I was. Very much so.”

Harry nuzzled Louis’ neck, getting a happy sigh out of him. They kept holding each other for a while, and moved back to bed when Harry’s back protested at the angle. Harry would never forget the way Louis’ face brightened when he asked him to lay down with him.

Louis was on his back, Harry half on top of him, legs entwined. “I really don’t hate you.” Harry’s voice was slow, sleep taking over him. He was asleep before getting to hear Louis’ reply.

×××

Objectively speaking, Harry had known that communication was the key to move forward in a relationship; right now, Harry was having a hard time remembering what it meant to speak full sentences, moans and grunts being the only sounds coming out of his mouth.

“Lou, please,” rasped Harry, one of his hands tangled in Louis’ hair.

Louis had spent the best part of an hour kissing and biting and licking all of Harry, and was currently torturing his right nipple with his teeth, sucking and pulling the nub, ignoring Harry’s mewled pleas “please, just fuck me.”

Pulling on his hair, Harry finally managed to move Louis head up, his plush lips moving up his neck to his mouth. The kiss was hard, full of lip biting and teeth clicking. Louis pulled back, earning a whimper from Harry, his lips a breath away, and said shakily, “You’re marvellous, baby. Can’t wait to be inside you.”

Harry cried out, rolling his hips. “Yeah, please, please, wanna feel you,” he sobbed.

Louis sat back in his haunches, spreading Harry’s thighs with soft caresses. “Look at you, baby,” cooed. “Already so wet for me, so eager.” He ran the tip of a finger up Harry’s cock, a drop of precome bubbling out his slit. Louis caught it with his thumb and spread it in his head, making Harry’s breath hitch. “bet you taste so good. I’d love to taste.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” pleaded Harry. He moaned high when he felt a finger going up and down his crack, feather-light and teasing. “C’mon, Lou, I rea-” The words died on his throat, a sob taking their place at the feeling of Louis’ tongue in his hole.

It was intense, Louis skipping the warm-up, going all in. “So good, so sweet. Perfect, baby, perfect,” said Louis frantically. A healthy mix of broad, kittenish licks, sudden sucks and the slurping sounds coming out of Louis’ mouth were getting Harry desperate, hungry for something to fill him. He didn’t have to wait long, one of Louis’ fingers prodding at his entrance, stretching him. It went like that for a while, Louis riling him up with his tongue and adding a finger just when Harry thought he couldn’t take any more.

Harry felt like on edge for ages, Louis’s three fingers in his arse, a hand on his leaking cock and his mouth roaming over every inch of skin he could get to. Harry ranked his nails up Louis back, a breathless, “Ready, love, ready,” on his lips.

Softly, Louis got his fingers out of him and came down to kiss him. The kiss started as wild and frantic as the rest of their motions, gradually getting softer, tender, Louis lips velvety and warm on Harry’s plump ones. When they broke apart, they’d identical smiles on their faces.

Louis put a hand on Harry’s hip, his thumb caressing the bone, while he used the other to guide himself into Harry. Louis’ cock was so big, filling him up just right. When he was all in, Louis looked up at him and the world seemed to stop around them, just their thumping hearts and their ragged breaths in the space between their bodies. Harry gave a shaky nod and Louis moved back, thrusting back in on a swift motion, the drag of his cock punching a moan out of Harry.

They kept it slow, trading kisses and leaving lovebites all around. When they found their rhythm, Louis let go of his hip and laced his fingers with Harry’s, moving their hands over Harry’s head. Harry was entirely surrounded by Louis’ arousal; the smokey pine of his scent, his blown pupils, the sweat trailing down his back and temples, his hardness inside of him.

Finally, Harry shattered with a sobbed “Louis”, when Louis bit harshly on his neck, barely an inch away of where his bond mark would be. Harry could feel himself clench around Louis, taking him over the edge and milking his orgasm, the warmth of his come inside of him giving Harry a primal satisfaction.

They came down slowly, the room warm and hazy, permeated with their mixed scents. About to fall asleep, Harry remembered to ask, “What do I smell like to you, Lou?”

Louis’ voice was a low grumble when he said, “Like sunshine and fresh fruit on a summer evening.”

Harry smiled, hiding his face in Louis’ neck and thinking of how lucky he was, knowing that the hands that he wanted the most were the ones roaming his body.

**Author's Note:**

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> 
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